If We Could
by Eshe Returned
Summary: AU. The war is over, but things haven't turned out as expected. Hermione/Ron/Draco/and Harry all reflect on life after war. Songfic.


DISCLAIMER: The lyrics (italicized) belong to Avenged Sevenfold. Harry Potter belongs to Jo Rowling, the WB, etc.

**If We Could**

_--Lost by Avenged Sevenfold_

_Centuries pass and still the same  
War in our blood, some things never change  
Fighting for land and personal gain  
better your life, justify our pain  
The end is knocking  
The end is knocking_

I suppose this is what happens when you spend most of your formative years at war. I think we all thought that things would change. We imagined a different life for ourselves after the end, but it's easier to see from this vantage point that the end isn't here. The end is somewhere distant, or maybe just around the corner, but out of our vision no less.

I look at Harry, tangled in the white sheets, and I often wonder if what we fought for was really worth it. Did we make anything better really? Did we justify the horrors that we experienced? A part of me knows the obvious...that things would have been much worse, but it's a difficult thought to grasp when things are so bad where we stand. It's never over—not for any of us. Harry fights in a white hospital bed to hold onto what little sanity he has left. Ron fights to keep the dark forces from rising again. I fight to make it all worth something. I try to make a difference, not only for wizards, but for all magical and non-magical beings. It's a losing battle. We're all losing.

"Hermione," Ron whispers, "it's time to go. Visiting hours are over."

I look at my husband, and I suppose that maybe it's not all bad. We've made a life for ourselves. It's not what I would have wanted for us...an elopement and a tiny flat in muggle London, but it's a life.

_We've all been lost for most of this life  
Everywhere we turn more hatred surrounds us  
And I know that most of us just ain`t right  
Following the wrong steps, being led by pride_

We were hailed as heroes when everything was over, but we weren't. It didn't take long for the rest of the wizarding population to realize it. They began to see that life goes on, and that the atrocities of war are permanent. I always remember those days when I walked away from my two best friends. I felt so lost, and these days...these days it's like that.

I sometimes walk a street, and someone will recognize me, shout out, and I look down at my hand, shocked to find that I'm not invisible. They don't all love us either. I never know if they're shouting in appreciation or hatred. Some of them do hate us. They would have preferred to burrow into their holes and wait, but no one really knows for what.

I think sometimes that we didn't do things right. I excuse myself and say, "We were just kids," but I wonder. If we had really taken the time to think things through—if we could have known what we know now about war—would we have done it the same? Probably. At least I would have. I felt like I was doing things right at the time. I was proud of myself even. I thought, "I'm doing something that will last. My children will be able to look at me and like what they see." But I don't have children, and I'm not as sure as I was back then that they would be proud. I look at all the loss, and I just know that we should have done things better. I just don't really know how, but everyone's so angry, and it makes me feel that there must have been a way...something I missed. Everyone made their choices, but somehow we took the lead...took the status...and then took the blame. As I stare at my best friend, sweating and murmuring, no coherent words for three weeks...as I remember the brother I lost...I realize that the blame has been rightfully placed.

_How many lives will we take  
How many hearts destined to break  
Nowhere to run, can't escape  
Full of ourselves, tied to our fate  
The end is knocking  
The end is knocking, yeah_

I shouldn't have been there. I shouldn't have even been allowed in. I remember the castle that night...how dark it was. I hid in that dark. I hid the start of everything there. I may not have cast the spell, but it all happened because of me. Every blood-stained body bleeds on me. I shower three times a day, and the world thinks I've gone mad. They tell me that I've developed a disorder called Obsessive-Compulsive. Obsessive is true enough. I'm obsessed with trying to make things right. I can't change the past, but neither can I run from the present...so I stay...I fight, but now I do it in the courts. I try to be as just as possible. Sometimes I feel like my soul is tied to those accused. If I wrong just one of them...the balance will be tipped, and it will all be over, so I try to be fair. Every good decision only adds a feather to the balance on the other side though, and I know I'll be doomed forever, but I won't give up. I sold my soul, and I can't buy it back. I made my choices.

My wife, she's the best choice I made. I could ruin her though. One day I might. I've never been good at sharing who I am, and she pushes in, but it gets tougher all the time. She'll never leave. She's old-fashioned, and now that we have a child, she'll stay no matter what, but she doesn't deserve this person I am. I try to venture out of myself for her, but in the end, I know I'm going to fail.

_With peace of mind so hard to find  
We're dwelling on the drastic signs  
Another way to numb our mind  
And as you close your eyes tonight  
and pray for a better life  
you`ll see it flying helplessly away_

I see them. They don't know it, but I do. I see the way they look at me, and I see their pity, but I pity them. I'm the only one who's found peace. I watch them, and I know they're sleepwalking. They're stuck in the past because that's all there is for them. That's where I am for them. To them...I'm not me. I quit trying to be me ages ago. It's better this way. I try to explain it to them when the drugs are strong enough to make me feel again, but I'm stronger than the drugs now. I get stronger all the time because that's what I've always done. I see their horrors, and I know their thoughts, and I see them...my two best friends. They always tell me, "If we could..." And that one I will always answer, no matter how much drug is in me. "It's still the same."


End file.
